Absolution
by Shellecah
Summary: Matt encounters resistance from his friends in Dodge when he investigates the killing of hated George Hackett.
1. Chapter 1

_Matt Dillon's Case Notes_

"I wanted to pay his body no mind and go about my business like everyone else, but I consider it my civic duty to report that George Hackett is dead in the street, Marshal," Jonas said.

The deceased owned Hackett Incorporated and perished by gunshot at age fifty. He lay on his back with a bullet wound to the chest and no gun nearby. Dried blood stained his shirt and vest and the dirt around him. The morning was cold and gray, so the blood took awhile to dry. His killer shot him sometime before sunup.

I bent down beside Hackett, turned him on his side and looked at his back. The bullet exited midway between his shoulders. "Take a look for the bullet, Chester. It went clean through," I said.

I returned the body to its back and inspected the face while Chester searched for the bullet. Hackett's eyes and mouth were open and he looked shocked. A vivid metallic blue in life, the eyes were milky in death, their light gone.

"I found the bullet, Mr. Dillon," Chester said. He knew I'd want to see for myself where it landed, so he left it in the dirt.

The bullet's position indicated that whoever fired it stood close to Hackett, as it traveled some distance when it went through him. I pocketed it.

"Tell the undertaker to bring his wagon, will you, Chester?" I said.

"Yessir. Hackett throwed Silas Teal outa his job yesterday. Almost said nothin' 'bout it on account of I dint wanna make trouble fer Silas over the likes of Hackett. Anyone coulda kilt 'im. No one liked that George Hackett," Chester said.

"Where did you here that. About Hackett letting Silas go," I said. Silas Teal worked as Hackett's clerk.

"At the Long Branch. Silas come in an' got a l'il drunk and tole everyone there," Chester said.

"Chester, you recollect anything else about this, tell me. No matter what you thought of Hackett," I said.

"Yessir. Seen 'im walkin' here on Front Street roun' 'bout lunchtime yesterday or maybe somewhat after. Silas. He was carryin' a loaded sack an' looked like 'is spirits was low. Scarce never seen Silas look cheerful, though. He suffers the melancholy chronic," Chester said.

I headed for Teal's room at Ma Smalley's boarding house while Chester went to the undertaker's. Ma had heard about the shooting and Silas losing his clerking job with Hackett Incorporated. "If you're looking for Silas, he's out back in the garden. You know, Marshal, because Hackett discharged Silas from his job don't mean he's the killer. Hackett was vicious to his subordinates and a lot of people wanted him dead. Poor Silas used to tell me how horribly Hackett treated him. I'm just grateful Hackett roomed at Dodge House instead of here," Ma said.

Hackett was a business tycoon and former prizefighter from Trenton, New Jersey. He bought a building for his operations in Dodge while he set up a private carriage service with footmen to compete with the stage. Though the service traveled cross-country with no strangers sharing the ride, trips were costly and most folks chose the inconveniences of the stage.

Teal sat on Ma's garden swing, rocking it slightly as he read the Bible. I said hello and sat beside him. "What Bible book are you reading?" I asked.

"Ecclesiastes. Chapter three. Verse three says there is 'A time to kill,' Teal said. Habitually tense and glum before Hackett's death, Silas seemed easier than usual, almost cheerful.

"Silas, I'm gonna ask you straight out, and I want you to tell me the truth. Did you shoot George Hackett? I know he said you were through clerking for him," I said.

"Hackett befriended the judges in Dodge. He was rich, eminent in industry. Common folk hated the ground he walked on, though. Like me. I'm relieved he's dead," Silas said.

I searched his eyes. The truth was in their depths and I would find it. His eyes were pale-green over brown with yellowish flecks, and he shifted under my scrutiny. I knew he hid something. His relaxed expression faded and he looked haunted, although not by Hackett's ghost. By his blood maybe.

"Did you shoot him, Silas?" I said.

"If I did and I confessed, I'd hang. I wouldn't have a chance. If I killed Hackett, I would not own it. He was an ass and a vulture. You should've let his carcass rot on Front Street so folks could walk by and spit on it. Let the buzzards pick his bones clean, Matt," Teal said. He guffawed.

"If you did this, I'm gonna find out, Silas," I said.

"The only way you'll find out is if I tell you," he said.

"What about the loaded sack you were carrying yesterday before Hackett was killed? What was in it?" I said.

Teal startled. "That's my affair," he said.

"Mind if I check out your room?" I said.

"Well, you're hardly my type, Matt." Teal chuckled, and I had to grin. It wasn't like him to laugh and jest. He rarely smiled before Hackett died.

"Go on and check it if you're of a mind to. You'll never find that sack or its contents." Teal shrugged.

"Why the secret? Unless it's money. Did you steal from Hackett after he discharged you, Silas?" I asked.

He gulped. "Hackett paid me just a dollar and fifty cents a day, and he made me do everything for him. Work he should have done as the company president. Times I'd work twelve hours straight. He always paid the same measly wage. He was blamed mean, too," Teal said.

"Why'd he make you leave his employ?" I said.

"He said I wasn't forceful, that I thought too slowly. I could never move fast enough for him. He said having me around sickened him, and he couldn't stand me anymore," Teal said.

"Did you steal from Hackett?" I repeated. Teal didn't answer.

"I'll need one of your bullets to see if it matches the one that killed Hackett," I said.

Teal removed a bullet from his gun and handed it to me. "It means nothing if they're the same. It's a common brand most everyone buys," he said.

The bullets matched. I told Teal so, and said I'd keep the bullet he gave me.

"Fine. It doesn't prove anything," he said.

"These things add up in court if you're guilty, Silas. Don't leave town. I'll find you if you do," I said.

"Whatever happened with Hackett, I'm not guilty, Matt. I'm not only relieved he's dead; I'm _gratified_. He deserved it," Teal said.

He was unconcerned enough to give me his room key and ask me to leave it on his end table. He wanted to sit longer in the garden, reading his Bible.

I did a quick search of his room and as I expected found nothing to link him to the shooting.

George Hackett's closest living relatives were second cousins, to whom he deeded his business, property and money. He otherwise had no communications with them in life, and accept to collect their inheritance, they wanted nothing to do with him in death. His agent advised a churchyard burial, assuring me the cousins did not care about Hackett's body.

The undertaker displayed Hackett like an outlaw in his coffin in the window, and a crowd gathered to ogle him. He was painted and powdered, his lips colored red, his cheekbones smeared with red and his face whitened to cover the cadaverous gray.

I told the undertaker to take the body out of the window and put the lid on the coffin, have his men hitch up his wagon and drive the corpse to the churchyard. "You folks go on about your business. The sideshow's closed," I said to the spectators.

Moss Grimmick was there, as were Doc and Chester. "Chester, go find the parson. They're taking Hackett to the churchyard," I said.

"Yessir. He looks menacin' wearin' thet paint. He's even sterner in death than he was livin'," Chester said.

"It's only a dead body. I'm surprised to see you here staring at it, Chester. Seems to me that's the last thing you'd wanna do," I said.

"It's jest devilish George Hackett, Mr. Dillon. Doc's right there a lookin' too," Chester said.

"I'm here to make sure he's dead. He kept a woman in his room at Dodge House who went insane on account of him being cold to her. She visited me feeling poorly, told me how Hackett said degrading things to her all the time. I tried to convince her to leave him, but he had her believing she couldn't make it on her own without him. Poor woman took leave of her senses only a week ago, and I had her sent to the Pennsylvania Hospital for the Insane. It's the leading institution for moral treatment," Doc said.

"And what about poor Lije Graham? You forget him already, Matt? I came to see for myself Hackett's dead, too. He oughta be displayed in that window for hurting folks bad, if he wasn't a lawbreaker," Moss said.

Moss is not one to take a morbid interest in cadavers any more than Chester. Doc's only interest is normally medical curiosity, and there was no mystery in how Hackett died. Having paid little mind to Hackett in life, I began to realize how people despised him, including my own friends.

Hackett hired Moss's friend Lije Graham to draw illustrations of the carriage for Hackett's private travel service. Hackett had the drawings printed in newspapers and magazines, and Lije painted colorful depictions of the service at the carriage depots.

When the service failed to make much money, Hackett blamed Lije, according to Moss. Hackett ranted at Lije and cursed him, called him a worthless fool and told him he was through. He was a sensitive man on account of his artistic talent, and Moss said Lije was particularly tendersome at the time, as his wife had just run off with a peddler.

Moss is old and sleeps soundly nights at his livery, and he woke one morning to find Lije hanging from a stable rafter. Moss defended Lije when Chester said it was mighty thoughtless to shock Moss like that, and Lije was not a friend at the last. "He wasn't thinking straight and he likely saw me as his best friend, maybe the only one who cared what happened to him. I guess he wanted to be near me when he died," Moss said. He was sure the hanging was suicide, as Lije talked at length to Moss about killing himself after Hackett let him go from his job.

"I got somewhat else to tell you, Matt," Moss said as we watched the undertaker's men lift Hackett in his coffin from the window and cover him with the lid. "I'm dead set against telling you, as it might point to Silas Teal as Hackett's killer, and I sure don't wanna make trouble for Silas. He's a nice enough fella, and if he killed Hackett I'd like to thank him."

"Tell me what you know, Moss," I said.

"Well Silas saddled his horse and rode out about noon today. Said he'd be back close to sundown. He had a bulging sack with him," Moss said.

"Where'd he go," I said.

"He didn't tell me so I didn't ask. Tain't my affair," Moss said.

"Moss, if you'd come to me right away about this, I would've tracked him and caught up with him, and found out what's in that sack. I figure Teal stole money from Hackett after he discharged Teal from his clerking job. It's too late to catch him now; he'll be on his way back to Dodge, likely without the sack. He could have hidden the money anywhere," I said.

"I hope he did steal from Hackett and you never find the money. I hope Silas stole enough to keep him in comfort the rest of his days. It'll make up for Hackett's cruelty to him," Moss said.

Seeing Kitty at Hackett's burial surprised me, as she disliked him no less than most folks. The parson was there at the churchyard, Hackett's agent, myself and Chester, the undertaker's men waiting to lower Hackett's body into a freshly dug grave, and no one else.

"I'm guessing you're not here to pay your respects, Kitty," I said.

"To George Hackett? I don't think so," Kitty said. She took my arm and led me away from Hackett's agent. Chester followed and leaned in close to listen.

"Sam wants to talk to you about Silas Teal and that sack. Sam shared it with me; he should be the one to tell you, though. I might get something wrong if I try to recollect exactly what he said. You know, so you have his statement as evidence, Matt. Sam doesn't want to get Silas in trouble over a dirt clod like Hackett was, but it's bothering Sam's conscience. As it is, he waited until— Well, I'll let him tell you. If it was me, I wouldn't say a word about it. Why should a decent man like Silas go to jail for killing the likes of Hackett. Let's go see Sam now, Matt," Kitty said.

"I have to witness Hackett's burial first. The parson's having scripture and prayer," I said.

"Then Chester will walk me back to the Long Branch. If I stand near Hackett's carcass another minute, I'll . . . _desecrate _it. Come on, Chester, I'll buy you a beer," said Kitty.

When the men started shoveling dirt on Hackett's coffin, I headed to the Long Branch and joined Kitty and Chester where they sat at a table with Sam. Kitty got up to draw me a beer, and Sam told me about Teal and the sack.

"Silas came to the bar mid-afternoon yesterday and asked if he could put the sack in my room, and he'd pick it up on the morrow. When I asked why, he said George Hackett just discharged him, and he didn't want Hackett to come looking for the sack in Silas's room at Ma Smalley's. I said, 'Silas, if you stole from Hackett, I'll have nothing to do with it,' and he begged me, said it would mean the world to him if I'd just hold the sack in my room 'til today.

"I felt for him on account of he lost his job. I always pitied Silas anyway, slaving for a character like Hackett. Folks know how hard that was on Silas. So he went upstairs with me and put the sack under my bed.

"I got so curious after he left, I had to see what was in the sack. It was three gold bars, Marshal. Silas must've stole them from Hackett. Silas showed here at the Long Branch close to lunchtime today and picked up the sack. Wherever he took it, he may have gone out the back door here to the alley and walked to the prairie a ways from town so no one would notice him," Sam said.

"He took that sack to Grimmick's and rode out with it, likely to the bank at Cimarron to cash in the gold for bills. They're light to tote around and not conspicuous like coins. He'll have hidden the money on the prairie and rode back into Dodge about now," I said.

"Silas will go to jail, but he don't haveta tell where he hid the money. I hope no one don't never find it an' he keeps it. Ain't no proof he kilt Hackett neither. Nary a soul seen who done it, seems like. Silas might not stand trial even if he done it. Hope he gits off clean free howsoever," Chester said.

"So do I," Kitty said.

"You know better than that, Chester. That's not like you," I said.

"Mr. Dillon, I reckon I kin talk how I want to. Hackett treated Silas turrible, and that money'll make up for 'is sufferins. Ah'm glad Hackett's shot dead, if Silas done it or no," Chester said.

He gulped the rest of his beer, thumped the mug on the table, scraped back his chair and tipped his hat to Kitty. "Miss Kitty," he said, and stomped out, hitting the batwings so they slammed against the walls.

"What are you gonna do now, Matt?" Kitty said.

"Ask Hackett's agent to check his safe for three missing gold bars, then lock Teal up and send a wire to Cimarron to get a statement from the bank that he traded the gold for bills," I said.

When the agent, Mr. Franklin, unlocked the safe at Hackett Incorporated, the gold bars were gone. "Silas might possibly have taken the gold to the bank," Franklin said.

"The Dodge bank?" I said.

"Well, yes sir. Mr. Hackett told me the last order he gave Silas was to take the gold to the bank. Right after Mr. Hackett— You know Marshal, I didn't think of it at the time, but that was strange, trusting an employee with gold to deposit directly after telling him he's out of a job. Not that Silas isn't trustworthy. He is. But he'd just lost his job and he did not earn much working for Mr. Hackett," Franklin said.

I thanked him and stopped by the Dodge bank before heading to Ma Smalley's to arrest Teal, though I was sure he hadn't deposited the gold in Dodge, and when I sent the telegram to Cimarron, I'd get a reply from the bank stating that a man fitting Teal's description had traded three gold bars for their value in bills. None of the clerks at Dodge bank had seen Teal come in for at least a fortnight. When I went to Ma's to take him into custody, he was in the dining room about to sit down for dinner.

"You're here just in time for supper, Marshal. We have catfish tonight," said Ma.

"Thanks Ma, but I have something else to do. I need to see you outside, Silas," I said.

Silas stopped on Ma's front porch. "What is it, Matt," he said.

"Come on out to the street," I said.

He walked with me to the street, and I reached for his gun. He was a clerk by profession, not a gunman, and despite his trim build I didn't expect him to have fast reflexes.

Teal's hand moved swiftly to his gun butt and we grabbed his gun at the same time. I figured he did not want to shoot me, and I released the gun so neither of us would get shot by accident.

Teal staggered when I let go. He'd cocked the gun, his finger on the trigger. His arm swung down as he fought to stay on his feet, and the gun fired.


	2. Chapter 2

_Matt Dillon's Case Notes_

Teal's body jolted and his eyes widened in shock. He dropped the gun and froze, still on his feet, staring up at me as blood soaked his suit jacket and vest above his left hip. "I shot myself, Matt," he said.

"We'll get you to Doc's, Silas," I said. I picked up his gun and stuck it in my belt.

"The bullet went through," Silas said as I helped him to Doc's. "There's blood wet on my back under my ribs and I felt it rip through back there. Feels like a hot sword stabbed me, but I think it missed my innards.

"I would not have shot you. I panicked and clicked the hammer to fend you off 'cause I knew you'd throw me in jail," Silas said. His voice grew weaker and he gasped, leaning on me more. "I think I'm bleeding to death. My vision's clouding, Matt," he said.

I half-carried him up Doc's staircase. "I must confess before I die," Teal said. His vest and jacket were sodden with blood and he looked pale.

"I cannot pass out, Matt," he said as he lay on Doc's table.

"You won't die," Doc assured him. "I'll see to it. You'll pass out cuz I'm gonna chloroform you so you won't feel any pain while I clean and stitch your wound. Don't fight it, Silas. Your heart will beat faster and you'll bleed more if you do."

Silas closed his eyes. "I trust you, Doc," he said, and fainted before Doc chloroformed him.

Doc said he'd give Teal morphine when he woke out of the chloroform, as he needed to sleep the night through, so I left Doc's office and returned the next morning. Teal was sitting up in Doc's bed with two pillows at his back.

"I have to tell you what happened with Hackett, Matt. Doc says I'll live, but I know infection can set in and kill with gunshot. Not that I'm borrowing trouble, but I have to confess to you just in case," Teal said.

"I'm listening, Silas," I said, pulling a chair by the bedside.

"Hackett knew I hid his gold. He went to the bank after he ordered me to deposit the gold here in town, and the clerks told him I hadn't come in. Hackett figured I couldn't resist stealing the gold since he discharged me, and he wanted me jailed just out of malice. He was a dung pile. He said he wouldn't pay me for my last hour on the job if I refused to make the deposit, so I put the gold in a sack and set out for the bank, and on the way I decided to keep the gold.

"I wandered to . . . I don't know . . . three or four saloons that night, playing cards and getting a bit drunk. I was at the Lady Gay very late, and when I left Hackett was waiting by the saloon. He dragged me to the middle of Front Street, said I better take him to where I hid the gold, or he'd beat me to death.

"I know he never wore a gun, but he was a prizefighter once, Matt, and he had a terrible temper. He caught me out late alone so there'd be no witnesses around to see him kill me if I refused to tell where the gold was.

"Hackett shoved me away from him and demanded I show him where I hid it. I said no and he charged me like a mad bull, so I shot him through the heart and he fell on his back. I looked closely at him and saw he was dead," said Teal.

"Silas, Hackett was a boxer like you said, so his fists were deadly weapons. I won't charge you with murder. You shot him in self-defense," I said.

"Thank you, Matt. I surely am beholden to you," Teal said.

"You'll get jail time for stealing the gold, though. Likely about ninety days right here in Dodge. You didn't tell me where you hid the money, Silas," I said.

"That's not part of my confession. I'm keeping the money to compensate for Hackett underpaying and mistreating me, and letting me go from the job for no reason. I've a right to the money," Teal said.

"The judge will add an extra thirty days or so to your time unless you confess where you hid it. That'll still make your sentence short enough to serve in Dodge," I said.

"I won't tell where I stashed the money and you'll never find it. I'll take care you don't see me ride out to replenish my wallet at the cache, and keep my wits about me so I'll know if you're on my tail. You will never come on me unawares at my hiding place, Matt, and neither will anyone else. It's too well-concealed," Teal said.

"Then there's nothing more I can do, Silas," I said.

"You won't run me out of Dodge when I get out of jail?" Teal asked.

"No point in it. Running you out of town won't make you turn in that money," I said. Silas smiled at me crookedly, sly and triumphant. I swallowed a laugh with an effort, though I couldn't stop myself from grinning back at him. Of course I don't hold with stealing, but I do not blame him either.

_Matt Dillon, US Marshal_

_Afterword_

After serving one-hundred-twenty days in the Dodge jail, Silas Teal went back to board at Ma Smalley's. He studied law, and represents defendants who cannot afford an attorney. Teal has not revealed the location of the money he received from the Cimarron bank in exchange for the three gold bars he stole from George Hackett.

Matt occasionally talks with Kitty, Doc and Chester about Silas and the money. Matt says Teal will never tell where he hid it, nor let down his guard so Matt can trail him unnoticed to the cache, as Silas is a methodical man, stubborn as a mule with an iron will. So Matt doesn't bother to search for the money, or follow Teal around town hoping to catch him riding out to the stash.

Although Kitty, Doc and Chester don't hold with stealing any more than the marshal, they agree that Silas should keep the money. "I think he was brave to do it. Smart too," said Kitty, crunching popcorn as they sat with Matt at the Long Branch.

"Smart for stealin'?" said Matt.

"That too. I was talkin' about shooting Hackett," said Kitty. "Shows Teal has sense. Hackett would've used his fists to kill Teal otherwise."

"You're absolutely right, Kitty. If Silas hadn't shot Hackett, I might've killed 'im myself," said Doc. He took a big drink of whiskey.

"You don't mean that, Doc," said the marshal.

"Maybe I don't mean it, Matt," said Doc. "But I'm not sorry Hackett's dead, by thunder. Not sorry at all."

"Well I can tell ya this much," said Matt. "Silas got everything the way he wants it. He was rewarded for thieving; he's a rich man. He served just four months in jail, and Chester treated him like an honored guest the whole time he was locked up."

"He talks kinda like the parson," said Chester. " 'Ceptin' it's some hard to git the drift of the parson's preachin', an' he puts me to sleep after a spell. I understan' Silas, his book-larnin' no matter, an' I ain't a bit dozy when he speaks; got no choice but to listen ever word."

"Silas may have missed his calling," said Doc.

"Seems to me Silas has more of a knack for outlawin' than preachin'." Matt recollected Teal's cunning smile when he confessed.

"He likes playin' checkers. Cribbage an' backgammon too," said Chester. "An' he likes ma coffee."

"How _can _we find fault with a fella like that," said Doc.

"He served his sentence, Matt," said Kitty.

"That's so, Kitty."

"It's like he done nothin' wrong now," said Chester.

"Silas Teal is a decent man," said Kitty. And Matt, Chester and Doc nodded.

END


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